


Downpour

by PTWL



Series: Kinktober-2019 [19]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bittersweet, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Facials, Fluff and Smut, Formalwear, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mentions of Underage Sex, New Years, New Years sex, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship, Victorian, after party sex, and they were ROOMMATES, mentions of parental abuse, so much motherfucking kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTWL/pseuds/PTWL
Summary: They arrive home laughing like madmen. Holder uses his heavy winter coat, keeping it over their heads as they run, to keep them dry and safe from the freezing New Year’s downpour. He can’t believe both of them forgot their umbrellas on their way to The Yard's New Year party. They run through the streets of London, many windows light up despite the awfully late hour, closer now to dawn than to dusk.Beside him, Jeremy’s every breath becomes a white puff of intoxicated mist in the cold. He is laughing his head off like a child as they splash on dirty rain poodles on their way to their shared flat. Despite Holder’s best efforts, Jem’s hair is damp, curls sticking to his forehead. It reminds Holder’s inebriated mind of how he looks during sex, icy rain resembling lukewarm sweat, and breath just as shaky as he runs beside him. It takes his own breath away.[Day 19: Formal Wear ]





	Downpour

**Author's Note:**

> I'm late again but this is probably the GAYEST thing I'll write for this kinktober (and that's not easy at all). Holder just...says Jem is the most beautiful man in Earth every 2 seconds... And they kiss so much...  
Hope you enjoy! I had a blast writing this chapter!

They arrive home laughing like madmen. Holder uses his heavy winter coat, keeping it over their heads as they run, to keep them dry and safe from the freezing New Year’s downpour. He can’t believe both of them forgot their umbrellas on their way to The Yard's New Year party. They run through the streets of London, many windows light up despite the awfully late hour, closer now to dawn than to dusk.

Beside him, Jeremy’s every breath becomes a white puff of intoxicated mist in the cold. He is laughing his head off like a child as they splash on dirty rain poodles on their way to their shared flat. Despite Holder’s best efforts, Jem’s hair is damp, curls sticking to his forehead. It reminds Holder’s inebriated mind of how he looks during sex, icy rain resembling lukewarm sweat, and breath just as shaky as he runs beside him. It takes his own breath away.

They finally arrive at the block of flats they live in. They open the front door in a hurry and each lean against one side of it, finally safe from the pouring rain. Somewhere afar, lightning tears the sky in two. And somewhere close, he hears as both Jem and he pant, soaked and exhausted, looking at each other. On the other side of the street, a group of friends toast by the window but Holder’s ears shut down to that annoying background noise when Jem walks to him and cups his face with his hands as he kisses him hungrily.

He reaches for him too, hands cradling Jeremy’s face as Holder presses closer. Neither of them wants to take it slow and Jeremy licks his lips, asking for him to part them for him. Holder is fast to oblige, always weak to Jem’s advances now that he isn’t trying to repress himself. Jem is beautiful. His hair is fair, his face androgynous and his eyes a bewitching shade of emerald green. He always looks gorgeous. But now? In the dim light? Hair and formal wear soaked, shivering in Holder’s arms as he moans into their starving kiss? He is absolutely ravishing.

Holder can feel as Jem nibbles a bit harsher than usually at his lips, pulling and sucking at them until they are flushed. He grunts, leaning their foreheads together when they finally take a step back. He puts on his drenched coat as Jeremy leans for again to rub his smooth face against Holder’s carefully trimmed short auburn beard. He looks like a cat when he does that and it never fails to make Holder smile fondly.

The next thunder sounds closer and Jeremy hooks his long arms around Holder’s neck as they kiss deeply once more. Meanwhile, Holder’s hands trace his silhouette over his soaking clothes, relishing in the feeling of warm skin underneath. He finally grasps him by his lithe hips and he picks him up. Jeremy moans inside his mouth as he circles Holder’s wider hips with his legs, grinding slightly against him. Holder rests his left hand on Jem’s back, soothing him as if he were a small babe. When they slow down for air, Jem hides his dollface in the crook for Holder’s shirt, nibbling at his neck and right under his ear. Holder adjusts him better in place and he begins to walk up the stairs to their flat with Jeremy on his arms.

He almost drops his keys downstairs when he’s trying to unlock the door and Jem keeps on sucking at his lobe, grinding down against him, pinned flat against their door. The door manages a weak clinking and he arranges Jeremy in his arms again to open it. He whines like a spoilt brat when he doesn’t immediately get whatever he wishes. He is unbelievable, his sweet Jem.

They step, more like, Holder steps home and closes the door. It’s dark inside and the flat is still cold since they never leave the fireplace lighted when they have to go. So he carries Jeremy through corridors in total darkness. They are almost shaking from the soaking cold when they arrive at their room. A couple of single beds are placed together, bedside tables by the sides so there is no space between them.

He not-so-gently shoves Jeremy off him and into bed as he complains mildly. Holder quickly takes his soaked coat off, it didn’t serve them much to stop the rain but it tried its best and must be given credit for it. Holder falls quickly into his knees before Jem has time to react and he strips himself of his jacket, waistcoat and his bowtie in a hurry, leaving them scattered on the floor as he crawls closer to Jeremy’s prone form. He’s only on his trousers, shoes and white soaked shirt. His hair is dripping when he drunkenly reaches for Jeremy’s trousers to pull them down, freezing water running down his face.

That’s when Jeremy manages to sit up and stare at him, dumbfounded. Holder loves every expression Jeremy has ever made in his whole life and this one is no exception. He is beautiful through and through. Jeremy licks his lips, expectantly, and that’s more than a man can take. His haunting green eyes look almost black now that his pupils have grown so much. Jeremy rushes to work his coat off too, throwing it out of bed to avoid soaking the sheets even further and cants his hips up into the air, already eager.

He reacts faster than Holder would have thought, given he is just as drunk as he is, if not even more. Jeremy spreads his legs and quickly opens his trousers, pulling them, along with his undergarments, down to his mid-thigh. He is already hard and Jeremy shudders when he feels the cold air hit him. He grasps the sheets, closing his eyes in discomfort as he lets out a shaky breath. Holder takes his time to admire the sight. His blond hair is slightly darker there and even curlier, coarser to the touch. Holder is very fond of drawing small circles with his fingertips down the small trail that goes from Jem’s navel to his crotch in the early morning hours when he is pressed against Jeremy’s back, hand slipping inside his sleepwear. And, more often than not, Jem would pretend he is still asleep before getting tired of being toyed with and shoving Holder off him before sitting astride his lap.

Holder leans for, pressing his nose against his hair and breathing in. They showered together soon before leaving the house and Jem still smells like the soap they share. Maybe that would be a nice plan once they wake up and have some coffee. Kissing under warm water is much better than winter rain. And it would be a nice way to spend the first morning of the year. He nuzzles lazily where his thigh meets his crotch, beard scraping lightly against smooth skin. He adores how beard burns look on Jeremy. He looks so very lovely when he stirs in bed, barely awake, chest covered in hickeys and lovebites and thighs pinkish with some accidental chafing, shirt half open and without any semblance of trousers or underwear.

He is woken from his reverie when a hand caresses his auburn hair, combing it with long bony fingers. “Holder, please. You can’t just stay there when I need you, can you?” His Jem sounds so pitiful that Holder has to look up to steal a last kiss from him, at least for a few minutes. Jeremy relaxes, sighing against his lips, impossibly warm in the cooling water. Jeremy tugs gently at his hair as Holder grips the back of Jeremy’s knees, making more room for himself as he presses up, nibbling at Jem’s already overused lips.

He looks so beautiful when they pull apart and he keeps glancing at Holder through eyelashes so blond they often look almost white. And Holder tries his best to keep eye contact as he takes him in hand and strokes him once, then twice, before kissing the tip of his dick. Jeremy closes his eyes and his mouth opens ajar in a gossamer little moan. He is lovely as he caresses Holder’s hair when he pours wet kisses all around his shaft, sucking at sensitive skin now and them. He can feel he is restraining himself when his fingertips dig just a tad harsher on his scalp and Holder can’t help but find it endearing either way. His beautiful Jeremy, so responsive and delicate. The comeliest man he has ever laid his eyes upon. There is no other like Jeremy Whiteshore.

Jeremy whines in a high pitched voice when Holder licks up and nibbles carefully at his sides. His hands are buried in Holder’s hair, drawing circles with small hair locks. Still not in his sober mind, Holder decides against humouring Jeremy immediately and carries on teasing him further. He runs his lips up and down and sucks in close to his base, leaving marks and purple coloured hickeys on Jem’s porcelain doll skin. When he gifts Jeremy a short careful nibble on one of his testicles, Jeremy almost cries above him. His head falls back and his grasp on Holder’s head grows stronger but he only finds it amusing.

Jem probably wanted his mouth around his shaft but Holder has other plans for him, plans where he can watch his angelic face meanwhile. It’s easy for him to disregard Jeremy’s hands trying to draw his head closer. They are drunk and Holder is already slightly stronger than Jem, who, despite being just a tad taller, leans more toward speed. So he grabs him by his wrists and circles them completely on his hands as he pins them to the mattress. That seems to drive Jeremy mad because he groans in a complaint and thrusts his hips up into the air, barely brushing Holder’s chin. He doesn’t struggle against his hold, though, and grabs the sheets once more for support instead of his hair.

Now, Holder can watch as his knuckles turn white when he sucks in only the tip, gently drawing his tongue and teeth against his foreskin as he carries on pumping him. He adores watching Jeremy more than he could admit even in private. He is gorgeous through and through, gentle, truthful, brave. When Holder first began to take an interest in sports, he was nine. He used to sit far away from the first terraces, glancing guiltily at those older boys, always on his own. That boy would have never guessed he’ll be so lucky once he grew up. He doesn’t have to stare at Jeremy from a safe distance anymore, despite his mother’s best attempt to show him what happens when someone doesn’t stick to their place. They are safe when it’s only the both of them. And Jeremy isn’t on a pedestal but within his reach, as he is from his.

Jeremy was panting less as they run back home less than twenty minutes ago. His sounds can be barely considered moans now, closer to choked high-pitched breaths. When Holder grasps him harshly and runs his thumb over his foreskin, Jeremy begins to mutter his name over and over again in a hurried desperate plea. He doesn’t even finish the second syllable before he begins all over again, like a mantra. His brow is furrowed so beautifully and his lips tremble. Holder is too dumbstruck staring at him in awe to put his mouth over him and swallow. Instead, Jeremy ends all over his face, a groan of despair caught on his throat.

His eyes remain closed as Holder’s mind begins to clear. He licks as his lips, tasting Jeremy’s spent, but there is still much more left. He probably should find it disgusting but Holder can’t bring himself to care. When Jeremy finally manages to crack an eye open, he stares at the mess in horror for a short second before Holder begins to laugh loudly at him. Then his expression relaxes and he chuckles too. He doesn’t seem to mind the stickiness by how he cups Holder’s face between his hands, lovingly, and kisses him with a smile still on his lips and panting for air.

They only have a few hours left until morning once they are done and clean and Holder feels as Jeremy shifts by his side, snuggling closer and burying his face on his wider chest. His even breath tickles him on his chesthair but Holder only draws the heavy blankets further around their naked forms.

“To Hell with everyone, I should have kissed you there at the party at midnight.” Jeremy whispers against his skin and, if Holder were only a tad drunker or sleepier, he would have missed it.

Holder lays his head closer, breathing in the smell of soap and sweat. “We couldn’t. Don’t torture yourself.” Some things are better left for their little private life, within these walls and far from strange eyes.

He can tell Jem is pouting by the shape of his lips against his chest. “Still. I was dying to kiss you.” He admits childishly. And the only reason why Holder doesn’t kiss him right now, stopping those words from coming out of his mouth, is because they feel so very comfortable wrapped in their embrace. Jem circles his arms around Holder’s waist, using Holder’s arm as a pillow.

He would, a pessimist part of him tells Holder, reminding him of his brief summer affair with the stable boy when he was six-and-ten before his mother discovered them with their trousers around their knees catching their breaths laying on the hay and decided to take drastic measures. She isn't here though and Holder has one fewer issue to worry about. "You can kiss me now, it isn't morning yet." He tries to ease his thoughts into something not as...traumatic.

Jeremy hums against his chest and shifts to look at him. He knows it bothers him, not being able to lean into Holder's frame in public, or take his hand, or kiss him farewell when they part ways in The Yard. Yet it's still too dangerous. So when Jem leans in to kiss him, it's long and heavy, making up for their lost chance by midnight. Here, where there is nobody else to see, they can hold each other as long as they want to. And though Holder knows many things won't change in a year or twenty, at least he can live clinging to those little chances he gets. Here, life is waltzing barefoot on their livingroom, freshly ground coffee and Jeremy’s soft breathing as he sleeps. Who cares about the rattling windows when it downpours outside? Maybe, if they are lucky, it’ll snow tomorrow instead. Such a way to begin the year: in the arms of his beloved and safe from the cold that doesn’t know them as they are.

Once Jeremy is content with making up for their lost chance and he falls into a peaceful slumber, Holder caresses his hair. He presses yet another New Year fond kiss atop of his crown of gold. Morning will not find them awake and, if he’s lucky enough, he’ll wake just in time to watch his Jem sleep just a while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Holder is my main OC in a policial victorian thriller rp. This story is set around 20 years before the beginning of the rp, which begins at Jem's funeral (sorry guys). I...love them.  
I hope it was alright.


End file.
